


a world alone

by nep_tunne



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (kinda?), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Tension, Bad coping mechanisms, Drunk confessions, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, No Beta, No Smut, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Rejection, Roommates, Sapnap is the best friend, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Lovers, Temporarily at least, Unrequited Love, because duh this is a college au, conflicted feelings, i do proofread tho so hopefully there’s not a lot of mistakes, stan sapnap for clear skin, well kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29395002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nep_tunne/pseuds/nep_tunne
Summary: "You're my best friend, and we're dancing in this world alone, world alone, we're all alone.”—"George was leaned up against a wooden beam supporting the roof of the porch, his arms crossed. His right hand grasped his red solo cup, contrasting his blue sweater that hung loosely on his small frame. His smile was wide and brighter than the lights that hung above him as he laughed at something Karl said—he looked like he was glowing. He looked—he looked—He looked beautiful."—Or, Dream meets a guy in his freshman computer science class. He doesn't expect him to completely turn his life around.Title inspired by Lorde's "A World Alone."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57
Collections: DNF Spotify Playlist





	1. i'll never go home again

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooo everyone!! college au's have my heart so i decided to have a go on one too. i started this a month ago i think but wrote a large portion of it today
> 
> a few things: this fic will be (i think) 3 chapters long, all roughly around this length (4k words). i was gonna make this a long one-shot but i'm inpatient so im dividing it up. in terms of uploading schedule, i have none. but the next part will probably be next week if i have time to write it
> 
> also theres a lot of mentions of alcohol, and there will be for the entirety of the fic. (Dream's a big partier in this lol) so pls dont read if it makes you uncomfortable
> 
> if the cc's find this, i will cry omfg. pls don't shove the ship in their faces. if they ever say they're uncomfortable with it, this'll be deleted in a second

Dream didn’t believe in fate.

At least, he didn’t until he walked into that lecture hall his second quarter of his freshman year.

Stumbling half-asleep to the back of the hall at 8:10, 10 minutes late, he collapsed into an empty seat. The professor gave Dream a look, but carried on with the lecture nonetheless.

Zoning out already, Dream thought this would just be a typical, mind-numbing morning class. He folded his arms and slumped back into his seat, not bothering to pull out his laptop to take notes. He stared ahead blankly until his fuzzy brain processed the bright, baby blue in the corner of his vision. Dream turned his gaze to the source.

It was a slightly oversized crewneck, worn by a boy with fluffy brunette hair. Since he was in front of Dream, he couldn’t see his face, but his hands were visible typing on his keyboard. Dream couldn’t decipher why, but he felt drawn to him.

The boy must’ve felt Dream’s eyes on him, because he suddenly turned, locking eyes with him before he could snap his gaze away. Knowing he was caught, Dream simply smiled and gave a small wave.

The burnette’s head slightly tilted, a questioning look flashing in his chocolate brown eyes. Still, he softly smiled and waved back, not breaking eye contact for a moment before turning back to his work.

The lecture inched by—Dream never thought it would end. He wanted to talk to the boy, get to know him and maybe become friends. He usually wasn’t the nervous type, but his stomach fluttered when the other students started to shove computers back into bags and head out of the hall. Dream slowly rose too, slowly making his way to the stairs.

Should he walk up to him? See if he catches up if he starts leaving? His brain short-circuited as the boy crossed the hall and joined him on the stairs.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was thick with an accent—British. Dream didn’t expect it.

“Hi,” Dream answered, staring down at him. God, was he _short._

“Couldn’t help but notice you were staring at me,” he chuckled, falling in beside Dream as they descended the flight of stairs.

Dream’s eyes widened. “ _What_? I wasn’t staring!”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he paused. “Did you just transfer into this class? I didn’t see you last quarter.”

“Yeah, I switched majors. Physics wasn’t really my thing.”

“But computer science is?”

Dream shrugged, “I was really into coding when I was in middle and high school. Figured I might as well try and do something with it.”

The boy stopped suddenly, and looked up at Dream excitedly. “Really? Me too! What do you code?”

“Uh, Minecraft, mostly. Java,” Dream scratched his blonde hair nervously—hopefully he didn’t think he was weird for pouring his skills into a block game.

Dream was proven _very_ wrong. “You’re _kidding_ ,” the burnette breathed. “I do too! I make plug-ins all the time.”

“Same!” Dream beamed as they began walking again. He could scarcely believe what was happening—it was rare that he bonded with someone so quickly. Dream wasn’t shy by any means and had no problems making friends, but feeling a genuine connection right away was invigorating.

“I used to make videos with some of my friends in high school using them,” the boy continued, “but I never did anything with them. I considered starting a YouTube channel, but I got _way_ too nervous.”

“You definitely should,” Dream replied. Smirking, he added, “unless your ideas suck—then maybe it’d be best if you keep them to yourself.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense. “My ideas are _amazing_ , thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah? Give me some, then.”

“Mobs are different sizes, a player can control all mods, and getting shocked every time you take damage are three of my most recent ones,” he listed.

Dream’s interest spiked at the last plug-in idea. “You get _shocked_ every time you take damage? how’d you pull that off?”

“Well,” the boy’s voice dropped, and he looked away self-consciously, “it took a lot of planning and technical stuff, but I essentially made a shock collar that goes around your arm.”

“A shock _collar?_ ” Dream wheezed. “That’s kinky.”

 _“What?_ ” The burnette nearly shouted. “That’s disgusting!” But Dream could see his lips stretched into a grin and a laugh bubbling out of his throat.

Dream let out another kettle-like wheeze before sobering up. “Seriously, though, those ideas are bangers. Especially the last one; people would eat that up if you posted it.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dream replied earnestly. He looked up from the boy’s bright eyes to see he was standing in front of his dorm building; he had been so caught up in their conversation he didn’t realize where his feet were taking him.

“Which dorm are you in?” Dream asked.

The boy pointed to the building across from Dream’s. “I’m assuming you’re in this one?” He inquired, tipping his head towards the one in front of them.

“Yeah,” Dream replied. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before, honestly. We’re so close.”

“I’ve seen you around once or twice, with that other guy,” the boy told him.

“Oh, Sapnap? Yeah, he’s my roommate. Great guy, kinda a lot to handle, but he’s been my best friend for years.”

“ _Sapnap?”_

Dream chuckled at the confusion in his voice. “Well, his real name’s Nick, but he goes by Sapnap. Uh, let’s just say he _really_ liked pandas.”

The boy blinked. “I’m not following, but alright.” He paused, then said, “speaking of names, I never got yours.”

 _Oh, right,_ Dream thought. It was strange that after talking and laughing together like long-time friends, Dream still had no idea what the brunette's name was. “I’m Dream.”

“ _Another_ nickname?” he snorted.

Dream smiled, “yep. I mean, It’s better than Clay.”

“Clay? Like the block?” he mused.

Another wheeze ripped out of Dream’s throat, “Yeah, sure. Just like the block.”

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. When he calmed down, he looked back up at Dream. “Well, unlike you and Sapnap, I actually go by my real name.”

“That’s kinda boring.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m George.”

“Yep, that’s _really_ boring.”

“I’m regretting ever speaking to you now,” George feigned.

“No, you aren’t.”

“No, I’m not. But I might call you Clay just for that.”

Dream widened his eyes. “You’d better not. Besides, only my friends call me Dream.”

George raised an eyebrow, “oh, so we’re friends now?”

“You code and play Minecraft. Therefore, we’re friends by default,” he shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”

George rolled his eyes again, but nonetheless answered, “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two stood for a moment in comfortable silence, something Dream didn’t usually feel when getting to know someone new. Usually, a pause in conversation left him anxious and stressed, but here, basking in the warmth of George’s gaze, he was content.

But he couldn’t stay there forever. “I’ll see you around?” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

George smiled softly, “Yeah, you will.”

They said their goodbyes and parted ways. When Dream got to the door of the building, he couldn’t help but look back, watching George in his baby blue sweater disappear behind the closing door of his own hall. 

A feeling deep in his gut told Dream that George was someone special.

——

“And he’s a _coder,_ too!”

“You already said that, Dream.”

He had gone straight to his dorm room after his interaction with George, immediately spilling to Sapnap, who was groggily working on some homework assignment on his bed. Dream knew his energy was unmatched to Sapnap’s, considering the latter wasn’t a morning person; typically Dream was the same, but George had woken him up, sapping up the tiredness that usually dragged at his limbs at that hour.

“Sorry, I just… really liked him. He seemed like a great guy,” Dream lowered his excited voice as he stilled his swivel chair, which he had been spinning in mindlessly since he started rambling. 

“Aww, does Dreamie have a little crush?” Sapnap looked up from his laptop, chuckling.

“What? _What?_ ” Dream shrieked at the insinuation as Sapnap broke into a full-blown fit of laughter. “Come on, now, can I not make friends?”

“No.”

Dream picked up a pen from his desk and threw it at him, hitting Sapnap squarely in the middle of his forehead. “Ow! What the hell!” Sapnap yelped.

“You deserved it,” Dream laughed as Sapnap chucked the pen back at him. He caught it in midair, smirking as Sapnap rolled his eyes and threw his head back onto his pillow.

“Okay, but for real, he _does_ seem cool. Another person to play Minecraft with? I’m so down, I’m sick of playing with you.”

Dream rolled his eyes, “sure you are.”

“I _am._ You’re so mean to me,” he whined. 

“You love me.”

“Do I?” 

Dream shoved back on the desk, pushing himself in his chair until it smashed against the edge of his bed. “You wouldn’t have followed me to college if you didn’t.”

Sapnap looked up at him sharply. “I did _not_ follow you! You know I was interested in this school before I knew you were. If anything, _you_ followed _me_.”

“No need to get defensive,” Dream put his hands up in mock defeat. 

Sapnap shook his head. “You’re such a nimrod,” he sighed as he ran a hand through his black hair, returning his attention to his work.

Dream got up and pushed the chair back towards the desk, not bothering to secure it under the desk all the way when it instead bounced off the wooden edge. He jumped onto his bed and laid back into his pillow, pulling out his phone. The steady clicking of Sapnap’s keyboard faded into white noise as Dream mindlessly scrolled through Twitter, feeling his earlier burst of energy ebb away. After a few minutes, he turned off his phone and closed his eyes, allowing the world to melt and fade away as he succumbed to sleep.

——

Dream slammed his fists onto his desk. “Fuck!” He yelled, glaring angrily at his computer screen, the words “You died!” plastered across it. Laughter erupted into his ears, loud and jeering. “It’s not funny,” he whined as the howls only raised in octaves.

“How are you so bad?” Sapnap cackled from behind him, turning from his own computer to face Dreams’. 

“You actually suck, Dream,” another voice said, this one fuzzily coming from his speakers.

“Shut up, George. It’s your fault,” Dream muttered. 

George scoffed, “it’s not my fault I’m better at the game than you.”

“True,” Sapnap agreed.

Dream rolled his eyes at both of his friends. “Punching me into a ravine doesn’t take a lot of skill.”

“You’re such a sore loser,” George laughed.

Sapnap followed suit, “yeah, Dream, just take the L and go.”

“You’re both idiots,” Dream sighed as he clicked the respawn button. 

The blocky world regenerated his spawn point on his screen, and he turned his avatar around to already see George and Sapnap’s there too.

“We’re still on for that party tonight?” George questioned, changing the subject.

Sapnap punched George in game. “Hell yeah, I wouldn’t miss one of Bad’s parties for anything.”

Dream smiled to himself as his friends talked, his short-lived frustration over the game fading as warmth spread throughout his body. A year had passed since he met George in his freshman lecture, and since then, just as he suspected, they had become very close. Even Sapnap connected with him as quickly as Dream had, and the three of them had begun to do practically everything together. 

Not only that, but Dream had convinced George to start his YouTube channel, helping him with coding and editing and joining in on his videos as much as possible. He had been right when he said people would enjoy George’s ideas—he was well on his way to a million subscribers. Dream was proud of him.

“I’ll be at your dorm around nine. Sapnap, you’re paying for the Uber,” George’s voice cut through Dream’s thoughts.

“What? I paid for it last time, dipshit,” Sapnap said, “it’s your turn.”

“He’s right, George. You’d better pay up,” Dream agreed, crouching in front of George’s avatar, staring up at his clout goggles.

George huffed, “okay, okay, fine. I’ll see you idiots soon.”

——

Dream _loved_ parties.

He had gone to many during his high school days and had even hosted a few. He absolutely loved the thrill of loud music and alcohol coursing through his blood, and the confidence it seemed to grant him.

College frat parties were both the exact same and extremely different from what he had experienced in high school. There were more people, for one, and much harder drugs. 

But, Smirnoff is Smirnoff, whichever kind of party you’re attending.

Dream slammed his shot glass onto the counter of the kitchen bar as Sapnap and Quackity hyped him up.

“You’re a fucking animal, Dream,” Quackity yelled above the pounding music and muddling voices. “Four shots in a row? Jesus Christ!”

Dream smiled dazedly, his vision already getting hazy as the vodka settled in his stomach. He glanced over at Sapnap as he took a shot of his own, face twisting at the taste.

“God, I hate vodka,” Sapnap declared. “How do you drink this shit?”

“You like tequila, your opinion doesn’t count,” Quackity said as Dream wheezed. “You’ve never had raspberry vodka. That’ll change your life, I promise you.”

“That’s true,” Dream agreed. He looked around, then asked, “where’s George?”

“Dunno. Think he went off with Karl,” Sapnap replied while holding up the vodka bottle with a glare, clearly debating if he should pour another shot.

Dream slowly stood up from the barstool, lowering his head and shutting his eyes as his vision swam. “‘Mmkay, I’m gonna go find him.”

Immediately, Sapnap and Quackity got up with him. “Nah, dude, you’re not going anywhere by yourself. You’re already _smacked_ ,” Quackity said. Dream didn’t respond, barely registering what he said. On top of the shots, Dream had also downed two White Claws and who _knows_ how much beer during a game of Beer Pong. All three of them were not sober, but Quackity was definitely right when he said he was ruined.

He allowed his friends to guide him out of the kitchen and through the living room, dodging the large groups of drunk college kids to the best of their ability. Eventually they reached the back porch, and Sapnap reached forward to yank the screen door open.

A blast of cold, winter night air hit Dream in the face, but he welcomed its chill against his burning skin. The music muffled with the shutting of the door, making him very aware of the ringing in his ears. The porch was glowing hues of purple and blue under the LED lights, soft and calming, a stark contrast of the dark rooms of the house.

“There he is,” Sapnap said, but Dream already saw him.

George was leaned up against a wooden beam supporting the roof of the porch, his arms crossed. His right hand grasped his red solo cup, contrasting his blue sweater that hung loosely on his small frame. It was the same sweater, Dream realized suddenly in his muddled brain, that he had worn the first day they met each other. His smile was wide and brighter than the lights that hung above him as he laughed at something Karl said—he looked like he was _glowing._ He looked—he looked—

He looked _beautiful._

“—Is he good? Dream? Dream!” Quackity’s voice sliced through his thoughts and broke the trace George seemed to put him in. 

“Wha—what?” Dream turned his head slowly and faced Quackity. His brows were furrowed in concern, but Sapnap had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He slurred.

“Why are _you_ looking at _George_ like that?” Sapnap shot back, covering his mouth as he snorted.

Dream blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You were like, checking him out, dude,” Sapnap said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He was?” Quackity said confusedly as Dream said at the same time, “I was?”

“Yeah. You got something to tell us, Dream?” Sapnap cackled as Dream sluggishly shoved his arm.

He was definitely _not_ checking George out. He was straight. He didn’t like guys.

Right?

No. It was just the alcohol, making him think and do stupid things. There was no reason to over analyze anything he did while under the influence.

“Hey, guys,” Karl’s cheery voice sounded next to them as he walked up, George close behind. “Where have you been? It’s been hours,” he glanced at Dream. “Oh my God, how much did you _drink?_ ”

“You missed it, he downed _four_ shots in a row, like a fucking maniac,” Quackity said excitedly. While he was rambling, Dream didn’t realize George had moved to stand beside him.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. His brown eyes, which looked purple in the light, were bright with concern. Dream tried to ignore his heart in his throat at the sight.

He forced himself to smile, “yeah, I’m fine. They’re overreacting. I didn’t drink _that_ much.”

“That’s the biggest lie I have ever heard,” Sapnap cut in. 

“Four shots at once definitely doesn't sound like a small amount,” George agreed. “You should probably slow down.”

“Yeah,” Dream murmured, his vision zeroing in on George, blocking out everything that wasn't him, drowning in the revelation that George was fucking _pretty._ The thought consumed his mind until he blinked it away.

“I probably should.”

——

Dream’s head throbbed. His eyelids felt as heavy as stone when he attempted to open them, blinking at the dull morning light that was way brighter than normal as it streamed through his dorm room. He groaned and flipped onto his stomach, burying his head into his soft pillow. Turning his head, he opened one eye and glanced over at Sapnap. He was still sound asleep in his own bed, his right arm slung over the side and his mouth wide open from snoring. Dream stifled a soft snort at the sight.

He looked down at his desk, and smiled when he saw three small capsules of Advil and a plastic water bottle waiting for him. Slowly propping himself up on his forearm, Dream drained half the bottle and took the painkillers, smiling to himself at Sapnap’s thoughtfulness. Last night hadn’t been the first time Sapnap dragged his inebriated ass back to their dorm, and it definitely wouldn't be the last—Dream appreciated him more than he could say.

Recounting what happened the night prior to himself, Dream realized he only really remembered one thing—George. What came over him, when he saw George illuminated by the electric lights? He was his _best friend_ , yet Dream had never seen George in that light before, both figuratively and metaphorically.

He didn't know what it all meant, and thinking about it only made his aching head hurt worse. He lowered himself back onto his bed, curling in on himself and pressing his forehead against his palm. It was just the alcohol, right? It _had_ to be. There was no other explanation.

But the image of George’s smile didn’t fade, and the feeling it stirred deep in his gut was undeniable.

Dream shut his eyes tightly, willing George to just _get out of his head._ He fought his mind relentlessly until he exhausted himself to sleep.

He woke up seemingly as quickly as he had fallen asleep, and it felt as though he didn’t rest at all, despite the harsh sunlight saying otherwise. He rolled over. “What time is it?” He asked groggily.

“12,” Sapnap replied. He was propped on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His voice was normal, not gravelly like Dream’s, signalling he had been awake for a while. “I never thought you’d wake up.”

Dream was silent for a moment. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he murmured, referring to the water and pills that had curbed his hangover significantly. He received a hum in response. “And sorry if I was the worst last night.”

Sapnap snorted, “nah, you were fine. Well, as fine as you can get when you’re drunk.”

He smiled, closing his eyes again. He was thankful he hasn't brought up George—he could blurrily recall Sapnap teasing him over ogling him.

“You were staring at George a lot though,” Sapnap seemed to read Dream’s mind. _Fuck._

“I did?” Dream feigned cluelessness. It would make sense for him to not remember, considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed, so he desperately hoped Sapnap would believe him if he put up a front that he didn’t recall it. 

“You looked like you fell in love, dude.”

“Oh,” Dream forced his voice to sound surprised. “I don’t remember that at all.”

Sapnap didn't comment on his forgetfulness, but instead put his phone down, and sat crisscrossed in the middle of his bed. Facing Dream, he asked quietly, “do you like him? It’s okay if you do, I wouldn’t judge you, or anything. I love you no matter what.”

“No, no, I don’t,” Dream said quickly, but touched nonetheless by Sapnap’s words. “I don't even remember that happening, honestly.”

Silence. Dream fought to keep his breathing steady as he waited for Sapnap to speak. Did he know he was lying? He wouldn't be surprised if he did; Sapnap knew Dream as well as he knew himself, and vice versa. Secrets were hard to keep between them, and whenever Dream had sworn himself to secrecy, it was always short lived.

“Okay,” Sapnap finally offered, but the inflection of his voice told Dream he didn’t believe him. He felt a pang of guilt for not fessing up, but choked it down. Besides, it wasn’t _entirely_ a lie—he genuinely didn't have feelings for George--that much had been true.

But when the knot in his stomach returned at the thought of him, Dream knew he wasn’t just lying to Sapnap, but to himself.


	2. you’re the only friend i need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids. And laughing ‘till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough.”_  
> 
> 
> —
> 
> _“Dream gave in as he looked at the vast Atlantic Ocean, observing the way it reflected the night sky and sparkled in the moonlight._
> 
> __George is across there, _Dream had thought._ Even when he’s here, next to me, it always feels like there’s an ocean between us.”
> 
> —
> 
> Chapter title/song quote from “Ribs” by Lorde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello!! here’s a 4.8k chapter for you all!! things get pretty crazy here, hope you all enjoy<3
> 
> **bad coping mechanisms/depressive behavior is a part of this chapter (nothing too extreme though)

Some things never change. 

While summer shifts into fall and a new year of school begins, some things stay consistent. Like Dream’s love for his friends.

Some things never go away.

Like the responsibility of school and work, some things stay relentless. Like Dream’s growing crush on one of said friends.

He expected it to go away a few days after he first felt it—the warm, fuzzy feeling that erupted in his stomach at the thought of George after that night, when he had seen him look nothing short of  _ ethereal.  _ But it never did, no matter how much he suppressed and ignored it, it was always there. It was always  _ relentless. _

Dream still didn’t know if George had seen him staring, like Sapnap and Quackity had. If he did, he never mentioned it to Dream, never treating him any differently. Dream desperately hoped, if George noticed, that he believed it was just an effect of the alcohol, and not due to his inner thoughts telling him over and over that George was  _ gorgeous. _

He hated himself for it. He hated his brain for putting these thoughts into his head about his best friend, and he hated the fact that they only got  _ worse. _

When George would log off after hours of playing Minecraft with him, Dream felt waves of disappointment that he wasn’t on call with him anymore, the silence all too loud after hearing his voice for so long. At parties, Dream got anxious when he wasn’t with George, even if he was busy talking with his other friends. And when Dream went home for the summer to his family in Florida and George to Europe, he just about snapped.

He had Sapnap, of course, and Dream was thankful for him. But he wasn’t George, and Dream slowly began to accept that  _ that was the problem. _

Towards the end of the summer, as he and Sapnap drove in his truck down the almost-abandoned highway, Dream gave in as he looked at the vast Atlantic Ocean, observing the way it reflected the night sky and sparkled in the moonlight.

_ George is across there,  _ Dream had thought.  _ Even when he’s here, next to me, it always feels like there’s an ocean between us. _

At that moment, he realized how badly he wanted to breach it—the feeling was so strong it nearly took his breath away. 

But that would never happen. No matter how much he wanted it, it wouldn’t—George was straight, and he had no feelings for Dream whatsoever. If Dream ever confessed, it would ruin their dynamic, their friendship—and Dream would be  _ damned  _ if he ever messed that up.

He would have to be content with what he had.

——

“God, this is  _ so  _ much better than a dorm room.”

Dream hummed in agreement as Sapnap collapsed onto his bed in their new apartment, sighing in contentment. 

“Are you  _ actually  _ gonna sleep? We just got here,” Dream asked when Sapnap didn’t get up, his eyes already closed. 

“Why not?” He mumbled into the pillow.

“We still have stuff to do, like unpack the rest of our shit.”

Sapnap groaned, “we’ve been moving  _ all day,  _ though!”

“Well, I’m not doing it all by myself,” another voice added as he walked by the door, peeking his head in.

“Don’t look at me,” Sapnap muttered.

Dream sighed, “it’s fine, George. We don’t need him, I’ll help you.” He picked up a pillow and threw it at the back of Sapnap’s head, then followed the burnette out.

The three boys had been looking into apartments since the beginning of summer, their hearts set on finally moving in together for their junior and senior years of college. After a month, George had found one close to campus, within walking distance from some of their favorite houses for partying, and a great size for three messy college kids—it was perfect.

Grabbing a box, Dream followed George into his new room, observing the blank and barron walls.

“I’m definitely gonna need to spice up this room,” George said, clearly sharing the same thought. “It’s too dull.”

“It’s not like you can see color, anyway,” Dream snorted.

George rolled his eyes, “that doesn’t mean I can’t decorate my room. You’re so dumb.”

He let out a wheeze as George opened the box Dream had carried in. “God, it’s gonna  _ suck  _ putting up my setup,” he muttered.

“Oh, yeah, and you’ll need that up as soon as possible, since you’re kinda famous, or whatever,” Dream joked.

“I am,” George said proudly, crossing his arms. “Do  _ you _ have two and a half million subs?”

“No, but who wouldn’t have those subs if it wasn’t for me?” Dream shot back, mirroring George by crossing his arms against his chest as well.

“You bring that up  _ every time!” _

“Because it’s true!”

George scoffed, standing up and leaving the room. “Whatever, Dream. I think you’re just jealous.”

“Oh, come on,” Dream said as he followed him out. “I’ll have more subscribers than you one day, just wait.”

“If you even  _ start _ YouTube.”

“I will at some point,” Dream protested.

George raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I think so, yeah. Being in your videos and helping with them has made me realize how much I enjoy it,” Dream admitted honestly. “I might as well make my own channel.”

“You’d be good at it. You practically carry my videos,” George said.

“Okay, now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Dream rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious!” George promised. “The videos with you in them get more views than the ones with just me. It’s statistical—you can’t argue with that.”

“Well, then, I don’t blame them. With my  _ charming  _ personality and looks, how could they resist me?”

“Oh,  _ sure, _ ” George deadpans. “They don’t even know what you look like—you always refuse to face cam.”

Dream smiled wider. “Then my personality is just  _ too good.” _

“I hate you,” George feigned as he picked up another box by the front door, walking away quickly in mock anger.

Dream called after him, “no, you love me.”

“No, I don’t,” George yelled from his room.

“ _ Please,  _ George, just tell me you love me!” he said, lacing his voice with desperation.

“Shut up!”

Dream wheezed, staring down the hall at George’s door frame before turning around, reaching for a box. He tried to ignore the fuzziness in his chest that rose and filled his throat.

_ Just tell me you love me. _

Is that what this…  _ feeling _ was? _ Love? _ Dream couldn’t tell; he loved George as a friend, no doubt, but did it push further than that? 

He had never been  _ in  _ love before—he had dated a couple girls in the past, all of which he had really, really liked at some point, but he never reached that feeling of pure, heart-stopping love. Therefore, he had no idea what it felt like.

Before his thoughts could go any further, Dream mentally slapped himself. What was he  _ doing? _ It was already frustrating enough that he had to admit he had a crush on George, but to consider the fact that he could be  _ in love _ with him? That was a  _ completely  _ different story, and one that he had no interest in reading.

He had accepted the fact that the feelings were there, but Dream wished, with every bone in his body, that he would get over it.

——

Over a month later, all of their belongings had been unpacked and school began once again. Dream sat on his bed after a long day of classes, scrolling through his phone aimlessly. He heard Sapnap creak his bedroom door open.

“George and I are gonna go smoke, you wanna come?” He asked.

“I don’t smoke, Sap,” Dream reminded him.

“I know, but I figured I’d ask.”

“Oh,” Dream said without looking up from his phone. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay, see ya, then,” Sapnap said, closing the door behind him.

Dream stilled his scrolling and listened to the sound of the back door open, and George’s voice muffling as it shut. Sighing, he threw his head back on his pillow before getting up, leaving his room and sitting on the living room couch. 

Smoking had never been Dream’s forte—he tended to get anxious when he was high, so he avoided it whenever it was offered to him. But when it came to drinking, Dream couldn’t say the same. 

Turning on the TV and pulling up the first thing he saw on Netflix, Dream turned so he was laying across the couch, his long legs stretching over the armrest. He was idly watching it until he heard the back door open.

Sapnap and George were talking quietly, walking into the living room at the sound and sight of the TV. Dream turned his head when he heard them come up to the couch, making eye contact with Sapnap.

“Whatcha watching, Dreamie?” he said.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” he chuckled softly. He felt someone nudging his legs. “What?”

“Move over,” George demanded.

Dream rolled his eyes and huffed as he sat up, giving both George and Sapnap plenty of room to sit. But Sapnap walked over to the chair instead, slouching down into it sideways so his head was awkwardly propped up against the armrest.

Almost as soon as George collapsed onto the cushions, he practically melted into Dream’s side, lolling his head to rest it on his shoulder. He froze, heart racing as he glanced over at Sapnap.

He cackled, “oh, yeah. I forgot George gets  _ really  _ clingy when he’s high.”

Dream shot him a glare that said  _ you’re not helping, _ but looked back to the TV, trying to distract himself from the fact that George was  _ right there, _ seemingly falling deeper into the couch and Dream’s side. It made him feel both soft waves of content and sharp spikes of fear.

After a few minutes, George had fallen asleep, and moved his position so that his left hand was resting against Dream’s chest. He thought he was going to explode. He leaned his head back, glancing down at his friend’s sleeping form, softly illuminated by the blueish-white glow of the TV. Once again, Dream was filled with the realization of George’s beauty; he looked so peaceful, so content.

An unexpected wave of possessiveness coursed through Dream as he slowly, carefully, slid his left arm out from under George and draped it over his shoulder, pulling him closer. He smelled like weed, but for once, Dream didn’t care. He heard a soft snort from Sapnap.

“Shut the hell up,” Dream muttered, not looking at him. “My arm was just cramped.”

“Oh,  _ right.  _ It was  _ cramped,” _ he cooed. 

He mumbled, “it was,” but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

Eventually, Sapnap fell asleep too, snoring softly from the chair. Dream, however, was still wide awake, his heart never slowing down as George  _ never moved. _

Dream wanted to keep this moment, hold onto it and never let it go. He felt lucky that he was able to hold George like this, and that he had felt comfortable enough to do this. But he also felt guilty that he had no idea how much this meant to Dream, and he worried that he was taking advantage of George’s cuddly and clingy inebriated state.

The guilt began to overpower him, so Dream made the decision that he needed to  _ get up,  _ go to bed, and forget that this  _ ever happened. _ He uncurled his arm from around George’s shoulder, and slowly raised his body off the couch that he had practically sunken into.

But he froze in his tracks when the hand resting on his shirt tightened its grip in the fabric. George made a noise, and buried his head into the crook of Dream’s neck.  _ What the fuck? _

Dream slowly sat back down, but George still didn’t move. He wanted to cry—did this mean anything? He so badly wanted to convince himself  _ yes,  _ that George wanted him too, just as much as Dream did. But he wouldn’t let himself get his hopes up, repeating over and over to chase away those thoughts that George was _ asleep.  _ He had no idea what he was doing, and none of this would matter in the morning. 

“George,” he whispered, his voice sounding hoarse, “you need to get up.”

Silence. Dream shakily took in a breath.  _ “Please, _ get up,” he practically begged.

“No,” George murmured into his neck, sending a chill down Dream’s spine. “You’re comfy.”

_ What the  _ actual  _ fuck? _

This was too much, and Dream felt dizzy. “I’m not sleeping on this couch, George. I’m sorry, but I need to get up,” he croaked.

Silence, once again. Overwhelmed, Dream decided he would have to use his last resort. He grabbed George’s wrist, prying the hand from the death grip it held in his shirt, and turned his body to the side so George’s head hit the couch. Releasing his grip, he stood up and quickly retreated to his room, not looking back to see if George woke up and said anything else that was utterly  _ stupid. _

Shutting his door as quickly and silently as humanly possible, Dream collapsed onto his bed. A single tear slipped down his cheek, and he cursed himself once again for falling into this trap. He was convincing himself that nothing was something. 

Dream hated his stupid,  _ stupid  _ mind.

——

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come? It’ll be fun,” George asked again.

“I’m sure,” Dream replied. George was going to hang out with Karl and Quackity, and Dream and Sapnap were supposed to come, too. Sapnap had to stay behind to study for a test, and Dream simply wasn’t feeling up for it.

He got like this sometimes—where socializing felt like too much work, and all he wanted was solitude. Both Sapnap and George were aware that it was common behavior for him and respected his boundaries, but Dream knew George was just giving him another opportunity to change his mind.

He stepped out the door, looking back at Dream once more. “Okay. I’ll see you later,” he murmured. The door shut, and Dream was left alone.

He turned and slowly walked to his room.

He was tired, in every way possible. He collapsed face-first into a pile of pillows and blankets, groaning softly. 

It had been  _ months  _ since George cuddled with Dream, but it never left his mind. He constantly played it on loop, over-analyzing every micro movement George had made and every sound he had let out. Dream felt crazy that his seemingly small crush was morphing into borderline obsession.

It was affecting his mood and his overall well-being, and he knew it was obvious to anyone who knew him. Dream was caving in on himself, just like he had in high school. He thought he had gotten over that period of his life, but now it was back, with different problems attached this time.

Blindly, he found himself getting up and opening his bedroom door, trudging through the dark hallway and into Sapnap’s room. He was sitting at his desk, tapping on his keyboard, but looked up as Dream entered.

“Hey, man, you good?” he asked.

Dream said nothing, but threw himself onto Sapnap’s bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He heard Sapnap’s chair squeak slightly as he swiveled it to face him. “What’s going on?” He asked softly, worry laced in his voice.

“Do you think… everyone has a person?” Dream avoided the question, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“What?”

“Like… soulmates, I guess. Do you think there’s someone out there for you, who’s perfect? Someone who you’re meant to be with?” 

Sapnap was silent for a moment. Then, “I guess? I don’t really know,” he sounded confused. “Where is this coming from?”

Dream shut his eyes, not knowing how to answer, and not understanding why he was even  _ saying  _ these things. 

“Oh, I think I get it,” Sapnap said in realization when Dream didn’t reply. “This is about George, isn’t it?”

Dream spluttered, “what? N-no, of course not.”

Sapnap sighed. “Dream, look. I’ve known you for a really long time, and I know how you act around people. But when it comes to George, you’re completely different.”

“How?” Dream found himself asking, not denying what Sapnap observed.

“You’re more… careful. You usually don’t have a filter, but with him, you do. It’s like you’re constantly on your guard. And I see the way you look at him.”

Dream finally looked at Sapnap, who stared back with a glint in his brown eyes.

“I knew it the  _ second _ I saw you staring at him at that party last year. You denied it the next day, but I’m not dumb.”

“But what can I do?” Dream breathed, chest tightening as he realized he was giving away his biggest secret with each word. Sapnap already suspected, but Dream was confirming it—there was no going back now. His voice shook as he continued, “he doesn’t feel the same. I know he doesn’t.”

Sapnap leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true. I mean, it’s hard to tell with George. He’s awful at expressing his emotions.”

Dream sighed. “That’s the problem, Sap. I feel like I'm reading into  _ everything _ wrong. And if I tell him and he doesn’t like me back, then I ruined my friendship with one of my best friends.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Because, no matter which way, George cares about you. He wouldn’t throw your friendship away over that,” the shorter said.

“But it would be  _ awkward,  _ at least,” Dream said, frustrated. Sapnap was acting like the situation was easy and straightforward, but it was  _ far _ from that. “I feel awful. He’s my best friend, and I have no business feeling this way about him.”

Sapnap ditched his homework and got up to sit next to Dream on the bed, his leg pressing against Dream’s head. “There’s nothing wrong with your feelings,” he murmured. “You can’t control them, it’s not your fault.”

Dream closed his eyes as he felt Sapnap thread his fingers through his blonde hair in comfort. “It just hurts,” he said pathetically. “He could have all of me, if he just asked. He honestly already does.”

Sapnap didn’t reply, wordlessly coaxing Dream to continue.

“I-I don’t know…” Dream trailed off. “But I think—I think I’m in love with him.”

He vaguely felt Sapnap’s fingers still in his hair. The confession was a shock even to Dream, and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth after he said it. He hadn’t even admitted it to himself, but here he was, whispering it into the still air of Sapnap’s room and allowing his best friend to hear and see his vulnerability. He felt his body begin to tremble slightly.

“I think you should tell him,” Sapnap whispered softly.

“No,” Dream said wretchedly. “I can’t. I can't risk it.”

Sapnap resumed his previous action in Dream’s hair. “But you’re hurting. You can’t keep this in. It’s not fair to you, or George.”

Dream took a sharp intake of air. “If it means I can keep him as a friend, I’ll suffer.”

Sapnap said nothing, his mind clearly reeling as he thought of what to say.

“I’ll be fine,” Dream assured, but it sounded hollow. He closed his eyes and allowed the gentle movements of his friend’s fingers to pull him into a more peaceful state. His mind flashed with thoughts of the hot Floridian summer, the dark ocean, and the relentless, painful longing.

_ There’s always an ocean between us. _

He would never breach it.

——

Loud, blaring music pounded in Dream’s ears as he, Sapnap, and George entered the familiar house. As usual, it was full of students with solo cups and joints in hand, leaving hardly any space for the group to walk through. 

“Hey, guys!” Bad greeted them, a wide smile stretched across his face and a Mike’s hard lemonade in hand. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course, we could never miss one of your parties,” Dream replied, mostly answering only for himself.

Sapnap scoffed, “I’m surprised you even invited us back, Bad.” He laughed when he gave him a confused look, clarifying, “since I had to fish Dream out of the pool last time.”

George’s hand flew to his month as he suppressed a loud laugh, while Dream just smacked Sapnap’s shoulder. “That was  _ one time!” _

“One time too many!” He cackled.

“You just need to be more  _ careful,  _ you muffin,” Bad said. “I don’t need you dying on my property.”

“Yeah, Dream, go drown somewhere else, it's not allowed here,” George said.

Bad’s eyes widened. “No! I didn’t mean it like that. No drowning at all, please.”

Dream slapped his shoulder. “No promises,” he joked.

Bad rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you muffinheads later. You know where everything is,” he said before heading back towards the front of the house.

Dream cracked his knuckles as they entered the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of vodka and pouring himself a shot. George and Sapnap both filled their cups with shitty beer as he took it. 

“Dream, slow down,” George muttered after he downed two more, his mind buzzing with the alcohol’s effects. He scoffed inwardly—he had  _ no  _ plans on slowing down, his mind fixed on getting as wasted as possible.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, but Dream wanted to  _ forget, _ just for tonight at least, that he wasn’t in love with his best friend. He wanted to pretend that George wasn’t so goddamn attractive as he stood in front of him, biting the inside of his cheek anxiously and tapping his long, slender fingers against his cup.

Sapnap nudged him. “As long as he doesn’t make me save his life again, he’s fine.”

“Dream, my  _ man!” _ A voice suddenly rang through the air. Turning, he saw Quackity making his way through the crowd, Karl close behind. 

“Hey Quackity!” Sapnap yelled back. “Oh, and hey Karl!” He added when he came into view.

“Hi!” Karl smiled. “We’re playing beer pong, but we need more players,” he looked at the three of them. “Wanna join?”

Sapnap slammed his hands onto the countertop. “Hell yeah!”

Dream looked over at George, waiting for his answer. “Sure,” he said, offering them a slight smile.

“Okay,” Dream agreed as well, looking back at George as he hung back. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he whispered. He knew George wasn’t the biggest fan of party games.

“No, I do,” he assured Dream, looking up at his glossed-over eyes. “But seriously,  _ please  _ be careful tonight. You’ve been… overdoing it a lot recently.” 

Dream narrowed his eyes, the vodka surging his confidence and curbing his filter. “Aww, are you worried about me, Georgie? That’s cute.”

“I’m serious,” George said. “I’ll drag you out of here myself if I have to.”

Dream wheezed as they reached the table, separating into teams of two and three. 

“That’s not fair!” Quackity said. “Three against two shouldn’t be allowed.”

“George can’t aim for shit, he doesn’t count,” Sapnap crowed.

“You’re such an idiot,” George muttered.

Despite George’s aim, his team still won, and Dream was well on his way to plastered by the time they were done. 

“I  _ told you _ it was unfair! That shouldn’t even count. I want a rematch—we get Dream this time,” Quackity groaned.

Dream barely heard the last sentence as he pushed his way through the crowds, back to the bar. Nearly there wasn’t enough.

He lost track of how much alcohol he had after the beer pong match, and had lost track of his friends. He stood up from the bar after a while, the music drumming in his ears as the world spun deliciously around him. He had never felt so alive.

“Dream!” A voice called out, but he couldn’t tell who it belonged to and where they were. They sounded far away and close at the same time—it confused him.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, spinning him to turn to the right. It was George. “Dream, oh my God,  _ what the hell? _ Where were you?” His pretty brown eyes were blown out with fear.

Dream gave him a dopey smile. “Hey, Georgie.”

“I—oh my  _ God,  _ how much did you drink? I told you, you  _ idiot,  _ to go easy,” he looked away. “Whatever, I’m getting you out of here. You’re  _ done _ for tonight.”

He was too gone to stop himself from stumbling after George as he was pulled along like a whiny child. He pulled out his phone to text someone, but Dream couldn’t make out who it was.

Before he knew it, he was outside on Bad’s front porch, his body burning even with the cold air buffeting against him. Everything was hazy and fuzzy, but Dream found himself focusing on the grip George had on his wrist; it was tight, like his  _ life _ depended on holding onto Dream.

They walked down the sidewalk, getting closer to their apartment. George didn’t say a word, keeping his eyes forward and never slowing his pace. Dream stared at his black hoodie, taking in as best as his foggy brain allowed the way the fabric bunched around his wrists, and the way it draped over his small body. He blinked as his mind started to conjure up darker thoughts.

After what felt like  _ hours, _ they finally walked up the steps to their apartment, George releasing his grip to fumble for his keys. Dream lifted his arm up, admiring the fact that his wrist was  _ red  _ from the way George grabbed him like a vice. 

He was pushed through the door first, stumbling a bit as George walked in after him, shutting it behind him. “I—“

“Go lay down,” George cut him off. “I’ll go get you water.”

Dream blurrily did what he asked, collapsing onto the couch like a deadweight. The world spun around him, making him slightly nauseous. He kept his eyes closed until he felt George gently prod his side.

“Sit up,” he said. When he did, George handed him the plastic water bottle, kneeling at the foot of the couch. “Drink all of this, right now.”

Dream obeyed, bringing his arm up to wipe his mouth before laying back down, groaning.

“Serves you right,” George sighed. “You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.” 

He stood up, and began to walk out of the room. “Wait, where are you going?” Dream whined. 

“I’ll be right back,” George promised, and disappeared down the hall.

Dream didn’t, or  _ couldn’t,  _ move, waiting impatiently for him to come back. When he finally saw his burnette head poke back out, a fluffy blanket in hand, Dream’s heart melted.

He watched as George brought the blanket over his body, tucking him as best as he could into it. Dream couldn’t get over how cute he looked, with his brows furrowed in concentration and lips pursed slightly. A feeling low in his stomach stirred. 

George drew himself back up to his full height when he finished, huffing. “Try and sleep, okay? I’ll bring you more water and some Advil for you to take tomorrow morning.”

As he began to turn away, Dream’s arm snaked out from under the blanket and halted George, grabbing his arm in the same way George had to him earlier. He stopped, and met Dream’s blurry gaze. “What?”

Dream slowly pulled him closer, and George instinctively lowered himself so he was at Dream’s level. “Thank you,” he whispered.

George blinked. “You’re welcome,” he sounded careful. 

Before Dream could stop himself, he dragged his hand up George’s sweater-covered arm, over the hood, and rested it on his cheek. George’s eyes widened.

“Wha—“ George began, but Dream cut him off.

“I love you,” he breathed out, all his pent-up emotion and longing wrapped in the words. It wasn’t a joke, like it usually was when he said it; it was  _ real. _

George’s breath hitched, his eyes locked onto Dreams’. He heard it, too.

He inched his face imperceptibly closer, eyes flickering to George’s soft lips. Before reason caught up with him, his head shot forward, and his lips met George’s.

The kiss lasted no more than a few moments. To Dream’s delight, George kissed back for a second, but faltered quickly as he seemed to fully comprehend what was going on. He pulled away, his eyes wide.

“Dream,” he murmured, so quietly Dream barely heard it over the racing of his own heart. “I—you need to sleep. You’re drunk, and—“ his voice faltered as he scrambled away from Dream. 

His hand fell onto his chest, shaking slightly as he watched George back up, then turn and flee to his room.

The realization of what he had done hit him like a train, the haze of the alcohol lifting for a moment at the sound of George’s door slamming shut.

Dream just told George he loved him. He just  _ kissed _ him.

He slowly lowered his head back onto the couch pillow. The blanket over him was suddenly ice cold.

Dream shut his eyes, bringing his hands up to his eyes. He ruined it. He ruined  _ everything. _

He could almost hear the ocean’s waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how tf do people write smut bro i can’t even write a kissing scene without wanting to shrivel up and die
> 
> comments are always appreciated!! hope you all enjoyed<3
> 
> the final chapter will be out probably next week!

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always v appreciated!! i hope you all enjoyed. this fic is pretty special to me because i’m kinda basing some of this off of personal experiences
> 
> **title is a lyric from “buzzcut season,” which is also by lorde (all of the titles will be from lorde songs)


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